


A Little Too...

by TheTruthBetween-Archive (TheTruthBetween)



Category: Desperate Housewives
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-30
Updated: 2012-04-30
Packaged: 2017-11-04 14:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/394721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTruthBetween/pseuds/TheTruthBetween-Archive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lynette and Bree both shared a special bond with Mary Alice. What happens now that she's gone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Little Too Much

It was the vibration Bree noticed first, followed by the driving beat and distance-muffled words to the music. The vibration made the water in her glass tremble and jump, and Bree stood and walked to the front window, as if she could see the sound in the air and where it was coming from.

Something drew her gaze to Lynette’s house, unnaturally still in the early afternoon. Abandoning her lunch on the table, Bree crossed the street, the music getting louder as she did, confirming her suspicions that Lynette was the source of the racket. Evanescence, Bree thought. The music that Lynette claimed to only listen to when she was in her “pseudo-suicidal” moods.

A tendril of worry wrapped itself around Bree.

She got to the door and rang the bell, looking in as she did. The only movement was the vibration under her feet from the music. Bree knocked, then turned the door knob, surprised to find it locked. Now admittedly scared, Bree went around to the back of the house, finding the door locked there, too. As she wondered what to do, Bree went back to the front. Looking in a window, Bree’s blood went cold when she saw Lynette sprawled out on the living room couch, unmoving, with an empty bottle of wine, and a half empty twenty-sixer of whiskey on the coffee table.

“Lynette!” Bree shouted, banging on the window. Lynette didn’t move.

Unabashed fear fueling her, Bree ran to Susan’s house.

“Susan!” Bree gasped when she brunette opened the door. “Something’s wrong with Lynette, she’s on her couch, she’s not moving!”

Susan spared a moment to gape at the usually calm and collected Bree, before following her back to Lynette’s house.

Between the two of them, they managed to pick the lock, and as soon as the door was open, Bree was rushing to Lynette’s side. Bree touched Lynette’s hand with trepidation, fearing the sensation of cooling skin.

Lynette jerked, opening her eyes to reveal alcohol-glazed confusion. “Bree?” she asked, then seemed to realize that Bree couldn’t hear her. Fumbling with the remote, Lynette turned off the stereo, leaving deafening silence in the house. “Bree?” she asked again. “What are you doing here?”

Still overcome with relief that Lynette was all right, Bree’s voice was shaky as she said, “I was worried about you, honey.”

Neither woman seemed to remember Susan, but the brunette, while admitting that Bree appeared to have everything under control, wasn’t quite ready to leave her friends.

Lynette sniffled and tears filled her eyes. “Thanks. I was just thinking about Mary Alice. I miss her, you know?”

Bree made a sound in the back of her throat. “Oh, honey, we all do.”

Lynette continued. “I, I missed her eyes, and, and her smile, and her touch.” Lynette looked up at Bree with eyes pleading for understanding and rescue from the pain she was in. “I miss her touch,” she said again in a whisper. “She knew how to make me feel good… like a woman, desirable…”

“… loved,” Bree finished absently.

Susan’s eyes widened as she started to put the pieces together.

“Loved,” Lynette agreed. “She was good at that. When, when Tom went on business trips, Mary Alice always invited me over the next day. We would have coffee or wine, and talk. She’d listen to my fears and dreams and resentments, and she’d run her fingers through my hair, and she’d tell me it would be okay.” The tears finally spilled down Lynette’s cheeks, and gentle fingers wiped them away.

“Shhh,” Bree whispered. “It will be okay, sweetie. I know it hurts.” Meeting Lynette’s eyes intensely, Bree repeated, “I **know** ,” with conviction.

Finally getting a little too uncomfortable, Susan left quietly. Sometimes you could know just a little too much about your neighbors.


	2. A Little Too Far

A knock on the door interrupted Bree as she was cleaning up after her lunch. Wiping her hands on a dish towel, Bree went to the door, opening it to find a very uncomfortable Lynette standing there.

“Can I come in?” Lynette asked quietly.

Bree silently opened the door, and the two women went into the living room, sitting on the couch.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Lynette blurted out. “It was… stupid, and I wasn’t thinking.”

Placing one hand over Lynette’s, Bree used the other to lift her chin, encouraging the blonde to look at her.

“Lynette, you have nothing to be sorry for. You’re grieving for someone you loved. I know the feeling.”

Eyes filling with tears against her will, Lynette asked, “Did you love her like I did?”

Bree was silent for a long moment. She hated to lie to her friend, but to admit imperfection was something she could rarely face. Finally Bree closed her eyes and said a quick prayer that the right, if perhaps not truthful, answer be spoken. “Yes.” Opening her eyes, which started to fill with tears of her own, Bree continued with the truth. “I loved Mary Alice very much, Lynette.”

“Was she your lover?” Lynette asked quietly.

Bree was silent.

“Please, Bree,” Lynette pleaded. “I need to know I’m not the only one feeling this pain.”

Meeting Lynette’s gaze again, Bree said softly, “Yes. She was my lover.”

Lynette dissolved into tears, and Bree wrapped her arms around her, feeling her own sobs rising, and this time doing nothing to suppress them.

After an indeterminate amount of time, both women quieted and Lynette slowly lifted her head. She was silent as she took in Bree’s tear-streaked cheeks, reddened eyes and slightly disheveled hair. Tucking a strand behind Bree’s ear, Lynette allowed her fingers to linger against the redhead’s jaw. Permission asked and granted without words, Lynette leaned forward slightly, pressing her lips to Bree’s and tasting the salt of their tears and something reminiscent of Mary Alice.

Need.

Desperation fueled passion, and it was only moments until they were holding each other close and trembling for a different reason. Once their bodies calmed, Lynette ran her fingers through Bree’s hair.

“You’re like her,” she whispered. “In so many ways. But you still needed her.”

“She made me feel warm,” Bree said simply, and Lynette immediately understood, thinking that maybe Bree and herself weren’t so different after all. Bree may wear her coldness on the outside, and Lynette may hide hers behind so many walls that she can barely find it herself, but both women missed the warmth in their lives.

“You’re not her,” Lynette said suddenly. She began to gather her clothing. “I’m sorry, this was… wrong.”

Bree placed a hand on Lynette’s arm, causing her to stop and meet her gaze. “No,” she agreed, “I’m not her. And you’re not her. And maybe we’ve gone a little too far, but I think Mary Alice would have wanted this for us.”

Lynette looked unsure, but didn’t say anything, so Bree continued. “We can comfort each other, Lynette. We’re both grieving over the loss of a friend and lover, is it so wrong to connect like this?”

Still silent for a moment, Lynette dropped her clothes. “No… it’s not,” she whispered, at the same time relaxing into the redhead’s arms and kissing her softly.

They stayed like that together for a long time.


	3. A Little Too Deep

Lynette trailed her fingers over the smooth skin and taut muscles of Bree’s stomach as they lay entwined together on Bree’s bed.

“I like this,” Lynette whispered suddenly.

Bree tilted her head slightly to look into Lynette’s eyes. “Hm…? What?” she asked.

“Being here,” Lynette said simply. “With you, like this.”

Smiling, Bree tightened her arms around the blonde, pulling her closer. “So do I,” she whispered before pressing her lips to Lynette’s.

Lynette hummed into the kiss, but pulled away, regret in her eyes. “I’ve gotta get home,” she said.

“The kids?”

“Yeah. The boys will be home from school soon; I should be there.”

Bree gave a half smile. “Nanny doesn’t take the place of Mommy.”

“No… she doesn’t.”

Rolling away from Lynette, Bree got out of the bed and wrapped a robe around her – the deep green silk one that Lynette had given to her a month before. She then sat on the edge of the bed where Lynette still lay, watching her. With a tender smile, Bree reached out and brushed a lock of hair out of Lynette’s eyes. “You should get dressed,” she whispered.

“I know,” Lynette whispered back, but made no move to get up.

They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment before Bree leaned down and kissed Lynette again.

Lynette propped herself up on one elbow, her other hand reaching up to wrap in Bree’s hair.

Before Bree knew it, her robe was open as Lynette reacquainted herself with the sensitive skin underneath.

“Mm…” Bree moaned. “… Lynette…?”

“… Yes…?”

Bree gasped as Lynette’s lips brushed against a nipple. “Um… I thought… god! … I thought you had to go home?”

Lynette pulled away long enough to check Bree’s bedside clock. “I have half an hour,” she said, before lowering her head again.

 

As Bree slowly stopped trembling, and her breathing and heart rate slowed to normal, she shivered at the sensation of sweat drying on her skin.

“I really do have to go this time,” Lynette said softly, watching Bree.

“I know,” Bree replied with a lazy, sated smile.

Lynette smiled back and stood, gathering her clothes and dressing. Bree again wrapped herself in her robe, now slightly wrinkled from being on the floor.

She followed Lynette to the front door, but stopped her before she left. “Lynette?”

The blonde turned and looked at her lover. “Yes?” she asked, surprised to see fear in Bree’s eyes for the first time.

“What are we doing?” Bree whispered.

Lynette frowned. “What do you mean?”

Bree took a deep breath. “This isn’t like that I had with Mary Alice. This is more. I… I love you, Lynette. Like I loved Rex, years ago. I’m happy with you.”

Lynette’s mouth worked silently for a few moments before she found her voice. “Bree… I don’t know what to say. I mean, we both knew from the beginning that this was just a continuation of what we both had with Mary Alice.”

“Can you honestly say that you don’t love me like I love you?”

A pause, then a quiet, “No.”

Bree stepped forward, one hand going to Lynette’s cheek. “This is getting deeper, Lynette, what’s between us.”

Lynette sighed. “A little too deep,” she whispered. Glancing out the window, she said, “I have to go. The boys will be home in less than five minutes.” With that, Lynette left, leaving Bree in her front room, more conflicted than she ever had been.


End file.
